


Thanks for trying.

by innoissaan



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Gen, Missy (Doctor Who) Lives, POV Missy (Doctor Who), Post-Episode: s10e12 The Doctor Falls
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:01:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24280996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/innoissaan/pseuds/innoissaan
Summary: Thanks for trying.As far as last words go, they honestly could've been better.Well, not last ever words. Just last words to The Doctor, but last words that matter because they're the last ones he'll hear from me.Maybe she'll hear a few more though. The odd woman with the stripes and the smiles.
Relationships: The Doctor & Missy (Doctor Who), The Doctor & The Master (Doctor Who)
Kudos: 11





	Thanks for trying.

_Thanks for trying._

Really?

Those were the last words I said to that daft old man?

Hundreds of years of time and space. Of fire. Of rivalry. Of poetry.

Surely I could’ve said something more befitting of a woman of my status. Oh well, that’s all in the past now. I assume it is anyway, always a little hard to keep track these days. Not like it could be anything but the past, I don’t seem to have an awful lot of future left.

It seems only fitting that my final death would come at my own hands, and at least I know that the other me has a great time ahead of him. Or her, I suppose by now. Although, what’s he done to deserve it? That sexy bastard shot me! If he hadn’t bloody well shown up I might’ve even succeeded in that ‘being good’ thing in a more safe and Doctor-approved way.

Sure, he’d be immensely proud if he was aware of my sacrifice. He always was a self-sacrificing fool. Actually, not always, I think Earth did this to him, maybe his pets tamed him. They truly are funny little things. All emotions and jagged edges and excitement and joy and pain and all that good stuff.

There it is again. That word. Good. 

What is that even supposed to mean?

What was the point in that ‘good’ thing if this is how I’ve ended up? That man might have at least had the care to witness how far I’ve come. Finally get this ‘good’ thing down and the only people watching are myself and I.

Well, maybe ‘thanks for trying’ were the right words.

Always congratulate a man on a good job, and a good job he did indeed do. 

It’s always ‘good’ with him though, so I suppose it makes sense.

That said, he could’ve done better. I could maybe still have all of my essential organs functioning as they should, instead of dealing with this stupid failing liver, hearts, kidneys, etcetera, etcetera. Probably better to list what isn’t failing at this point. My mind. Sharp as ever. It would probably be more of a challenge for it to fail even further though to be entirely fair.

Clearly there’s a greater issue with that particular organ given that I apparently saw fit to shoot myself in the back.

Maybe some therapy is in order. Although, I suppose I already know that the other me isn’t going to get it, I’ve already lived what he’s still got to come and I’m as wild as ever, and it’s not as if I have any time left.

Therapy is for humans anyway. Why would I go to therapy? I’m as sane as can be.

So sane that I can even will my mind to so vividly picture the TARDIS in front of me that it’s almost as if it’s actually there.

Perhaps I’d better take back what I said or thought earlier about my mind not failing, the Doctor and his TARDIS are long gone, probably run off with cyber-Bill to explore the wonders of some spectacularly dull period of human history.

Besides, the Doctor isn’t a blonde, or a woman. Though, I always have been a trendsetter, maybe he’s finally gotten an upgrade. That would be fitting, I suppose, given the fate of his latest pet. It’s a real shame, this one was quite fun. Lots of questions his previous ones wouldn’t have dared ask. Good thing it’s just me hearing my thoughts, can you imagine the damage my reputation would take if I were to be seen feeling _sympathy_ for one of those fleshy, pink pets?

Another thing, I know this imaginary woman isn’t the Doctor because the Doctor wouldn’t come back.

_“Stand with me. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”_

Smug bastard. Getting to have actually interesting last words to me. Besides, for all he knows, I completely disregarded those words to go swanning off with my immensely attractive past self.

Oh, and another thing to add to the list of reasons the Doctor isn’t here: The Doctor would absolutely never, and I mean **never** , wear something as _awful_ as that. What could possibly compel someone to combine those trousers with the stripy top and suspenders? There’s three different aesthetics fighting for dominance there and I can only hope that neither of them wins because they’re all as horrible as each other.

I suppose femininity is different for everyone though, some of us have better taste and wear it better than others.

This entire ramble is pointless anyway because the Doctor is not now leaning over me, having hastily made her way over from the TARDIS. The Doctor isn’t whispering sweet reassurances in my ear. The Doctor most certainly isn’t clutching my cold, increasingly lifeless body.

I betrayed The Doctor. I got the final laugh. Not him, me!

Laughing sounds like a lot of energy though.

Energy I don’t have.

Energy taken from me by my ridiculous past self.

I know The Doctor isn’t here because I also know the world isn’t black. Just one homogenous black mass obscuring what I could see of not-The-Doctor’s face.


End file.
